


A Dream That Was… (One-Shot)

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Fusions [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Gladiator (2000), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Badass Quotes Abound From Gladiator, Blood Magic, Fusion-Fic, Inspired by Dragon Age: Inquisition, M/M, Not beta’ed, One-Shot, inspired by Gladiator, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: There was once a dream that was...  You could only whisper it.  Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish… it was so fragile.  And I fear that it will not survive the winter.Alternate Universe - Fusion.  One-Shot.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Fusions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173047
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	A Dream That Was… (One-Shot)

The roars of approval soared into the skies, possibly beyond and into the heavens. With just how loud the mob of the City were in the Colosseum, Steve believed that even the mighty Jupiter could hear it.

Yet, he remained grounded, breathing harshly as exhaustion from the horrendously difficult fight against the captive blood-mages. On his left and right were Sam and Natasha, both looking as spent and dirty as he felt.

Sweat mingling in with blood from their wounds, dripped and dribbled to the ground. Steve felt the acute painful dig of his armor biting into his skin where the rough sackcloth of what constituted his shirt, did not cover. But the wounds were minor, compared to what he had experienced before.

The HYDRA-affiliated blood mages were all dead; bodies scattered across the dust and sand. Some were crushed, others dismembered, and beheaded. It was a ‘spectacular’ death, as Steve knew what Tony would have described their deaths – blood-thirsty entertainment to the fullest.

The crowd was still wildly cheering when the brassy horns sounded. Steve warily looked around, confusion matching that of his two friends. By the third long blast of the horn, the crowd’s cheers were dying down.

A hundred feet away from them, the gates that led to the underground labyrinth were opening. Steve saw Sam and Natasha move ever so closer to him. He tightened his grip on his sword as a darkened figure appeared at the threshold of the gate.

“Lower your weapons!” the man who supervised the armory down below commanded.

Steve caught Sam and Natasha’s glances over at him, before he focused his attention back on the armory supervisor. If a non-combatant was ordering them to lower their weapons, then it stood to say that whatever else was coming out of that gate was not going to be a threat to them.

At least Steve hoped it was true.

He nodded to his friends, and their weapons clattered to the ground almost all at the same time. Not a second later, Praetorian Guards streamed out of the gates; their black armor and capes whipping around them. Gleaming silver shields marked with the bright red star shone against the sun, nearly blinding Steve and the others for a few moments.

The Guards surrounded the three of them in a square formation, trampling over the dead bodies of their comrades and enemies alike. As the rear of the formation drew up, Steve’s stomach turned to ice, while cold, furious anger swept through his blood.

Emperor Alexander Pierce approached.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam immediately knelt down to the ground. But Steve was already reaching for the tiny shiv inches away from his hand. It was half-buried in the sand, broken off from a blade somewhere during the battle.

The usurper emperor of the Empire; the one whom Steve thought murdered beloved Emperor Chester Philips-Carter. The one who had married Crown Princess Margaret “Peggy” Carter to secure a formidable alliance between the two – now united as one – empires.

Pierce, whom Steve knew had always been jealous of him and his achievements in the field of battle.

Pierce, who had accused him of assassinating the previous Emperor.

Pierce, who had given the order for members of the Praetorian Guard to immediately execute him without any trial – fair or otherwise.

Pierce, who had ordered the death of Steve’s mother and adopted daughter.

Pierce, who now controlled the throne, and had Peggy’s phylactery hanging around his neck.

Pierce, who must have told Bucky damning and convincing lies about what happened.

Steve’s heart broke as he saw Bucky taking up the rear of the entire formation, standing protectively next to the Imperial Family. His former lover looked as-ever, the epitome of stoicism and vigilance, standing there as the Commander of the Praetorian Guards.

He wished he had told Bucky those three sacred words that night…

…before the arrival of the Crown Princess and her snake of a second husband. Before he had been charged by the one true Emperor with the will to return to the City the dream that was…

…before his life as a loyal citizen of the Empire, and as an Imperial soldier, ended.

“Rise. Rise,” Pierce genially stated, as Steve saw Peggy’s son – Clint – scramble forward.

Tucking the shiv between his fingers, Steve slowly stood. Beside him, Natasha and Sam had done the same, but Steve could see Natasha exuding some wariness. He didn’t blame her for being more than nervous. Natasha, after all, was an unchained blood-mage.

Just like the blood-mages they had killed minutes before, accompanied by the blood-thirsty, approving howls of the crowd.

The sight of Peggy, and the phylactery of her blood hanging from Pierce’s neck was probably making Natasha nauseous. But Steve could not do anything for her. He just hoped that she was not going to attempt to attack Peggy before he got a chance to try to assassinate Pierce.

But, Clint was proving to be a stubborn, unknowing deterrent in Steve’s attempt. The boy was being held close by Pierce himself, and had an impish grin on his face. Clint looked positively excited to meet the three of them.

“Your fame in the outer regions are well deserved,” Pierce stated. “Falcon, Black Widow, and the Captain. I don’t think there’s ever a trio of gladiators to match the three of you.”

Pierce smiled down at Clint, still holding him in a loving manner, while Peggy looked on with barely any reaction other than a bland smile upon her face. “As for this young man, he insists that the three of you are Hector, Odysseus, and Ajax reborn. Or was it Hercules?”

The Emperor tilted his head slightly, giving Steve in particular, a quizzical look. “Why doesn’t the hero reveal himself and tell us all your real name? You do have a name.”

Steve forced himself to swallow once, not just to wet his parched throat, but to keep the bile down. He could not – would not – kill Pierce in front of Peggy’s son. Too much innocence had been erased from the world with the war, and he found himself wanting to at least spare Clint from some of it.

“My name is Gladiator,” he stated.

He turned away from the Emperor. Almost immediately, a gasp of surprise and horror echoed around the Colosseum, causing Steve to pause. Natasha and Sam’s eyes were wide open and on him in shock.

“How dare you show your back to me!” Pierce growled. “Slave, you will remove your helmet and tell me your name!”

Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment. He silently prayed to the gods above to grant him strength to go through this, as it was not the way he wanted to return to life. Opening his eyes, he reached up and removed his helmet. Slowly he turned back around.

Eyes betraying shock, confusion, surprise, horror, and fear were upon him.

“My name is Steven Grant Rogers, commander of the Armies of SHIELD, General of the Howling Legions, and loyal servant to the _**true**_ emperor, Chester Philips-Carter. Father to a murdered daughter, son to a murdered mother. I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next,” Steve stated.

If seeing Pierce trembling in absolute fear was the last thing that Steve saw in his life, it was enough.

“Arms!”

Bucky’s command to the Praetorian Guards startled Steve. Yet, given the circumstances, he didn’t blame his former lover for ordering the Guards to point their spears at them.

The Praetorian Guards had sworn an oath to protect the Imperial Family. Bucky had no choice in issuing the order, unless he wanted to condemn every Guard member to be known as an oath-breaker.

Next to him, he could see Natasha begin to bring her hands together to build a spell—

“Live! Live! Live!”

Steve slowly lifted his hand from his helmet and raised it ever so slightly to ward Natasha away from whatever spell she was trying to build. It didn’t matter if it was offensive or defensive – he knew that she wouldn’t survive to bring all the Guards down. Especially if Bucky targeted her first.

The Praetorian Guards were the elite of the elite in magic nullification and combat, when fighting rogue blood-mages. Steve knew exactly how Bucky would Natasha down even before she had a chance to fully release her spell.

There was also the mob to consider; and their chants for the three of them to live were growing louder by the second. Pierce’s expression was alternating between disbelief, horror, and the need to appease the crowd.

Tony’s words of wisdom were right: win the crowd, and win your freedom.

Win the crowd, and Steve, along with Natasha and Sam, would probably survive until the next day. At least that was what Steve hoped would happen, as he saw Pierce try to motion for the mob to quiet down.

He watched with half-morbid curiosity, as Pierce slowly raised his hand up, curling his fingers into a fist. Pierce's thumb extended out, parallel to the ground, as the crowd quieted. Steve couldn’t help but hold his breath—

With the utmost reluctance, Pierce’s thumb pointed up.

The roar was nearly deafening.

Steve glanced around, wide-eyed with partial surprise that the mob approved of his and his friends living to fight another day. He didn’t even hear Bucky give the orders to withdraw arms, as the Imperial Family immediately left. But he did catch the sad eyes of Peggy for just a moment, before she was ushered further beyond the gates – back to relative safety.

But it was Bucky’s oceanic eyes upon him that drew his attention for a brief moment. They were unreadable, but Steve thought for a split second, he had seen absolute relief pass through Bucky’s eyes. That that relief spoke of the fact that his best friend and love of his life had not been forced to kill him.

Bucky inclined his head ever so slightly; all that he was allowed to convey in public.

Steve nodded in return, before focusing his attention elsewhere. As he raised his helmet in salute and thanks to the crowd, the words of his emperor echoed in his heart:

_There was once a dream that was the Empire. You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish… it was so fragile. And I fear that it will not survive the winter._

~*~*~*~

FINI

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to overcome a writer's block, watching Gladiator and playing Dragon Age: Inquisition, and combined with real-life pressures in a time of an overwhelming crisis in the world, resulted in this. I might expand the one-shot to a full-length fic, after I finish other projects. Like it, didn't like it, please leave a comment and/or kudos. Cheers!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Dream That Was...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762434) by [Legume_Shadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow)




End file.
